


Royal Pet

by Book_of_Kells



Series: Arda Club [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, F/M, Fígrid February, Master/Pet, Modern Royalty, Smut, week 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 04:38:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6105155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_of_Kells/pseuds/Book_of_Kells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sexuality is a sacrament...Starhawk</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Pet

**Author's Note:**

> When I think about love  
>  don't think about bright moons  
>  twinkling stars; red wine  
>  silent whispers  
>  holding hands; secret love letters  
>  I'm thinking about pure sex, deep sex, hard sex, rough sex
> 
> ~ Lords Of Acid - Rough Sex ~ 
> 
>  
> 
> I own nothing...I just like to play with the characters of Tolkien's universe...

Sigrid closed the side entrance door behind her to step into the late afternoon sun. King Thranduil loved his home in Notting Hill, opening it to the Princess of Dale for her when she needed it. As a member of the International Red Cross, she came to town every month for the current meetings. It was fortuitous that she was so close to where the Erebor royals maintained a London house. But she only had this week before she had to return to Dale and Fili to Ered Luin, Wales. One week out of four to indulge her passion.

She was going again. He had texted her and she was going. Tauriel didn’t approve, arguing that it was against her job description to let the Princess of Dale out on the street without protection. She didn’t understand that she was associated with Sigrid as a bodyguard, the red hair was hard to miss. They went through this argument every time Fili had sent for her. Kicking up the stand on the bike, she mounted it quickly to set off for his place down the street off Holland Park. Sigrid wasn’t stupid. Looking at the scooter parked against the wall, she knew Tauriel would be following them at a distance tonight to make sure nothing happened to her. But what the bodyguard couldn’t understand was that something already had.

What she _wanted_ had changed, along with what her body _needed_.

Flying down Ladsbroke Grove to Holland Park, the buildings flashed by in an endless kaleidoscope of people and color. Her bag banged against her as the bike took a crack in the sidewalk at an odd angle as she twisted around a few people on the walk.   She wanted to hurry, petal as fast as her legs would let her to get to her destination. Arriving all hot and sweaty before he stripped her wasn’t prudent. Fili wouldn’t mind but she would be tired before the end of the night and she wanted it to last and last. A smile came to her lips as she remembered that week in Ibiza, where she met Fili, the Crown Prince of Erebor in exile.

Tauriel had chuckled quietly at her when she saw Sigird walking funny out of the hotel a year ago. Siesta in Old Town was supposed to be about sleeping, though it was the last thing the princess had done. She had given her bodyguard a watery smile, trying desperately to keep the stunned feeling off her face. Stunned, shocked, elated, joyous. So many words could fit the mood and yet none described it on a whole except maybe, _complete_.

They didn’t discuss what had happened on the way back to Gandalf’s estate, parting so that Sigrid could take a hot bath. It was only in the sudsy water, the young blond examined the rope marks on her arms and wrists where he had tied her up using the drapery cords. Clever knots that worked like handcuffs lacing up her limbs until her arms were completely bound behind her back. Instead of being a prisoner, she felt possessed. His hands on her body made her feel cherished where his lips and tongue gave her his desire.

Bound in that fashion, her face in the bedclothes, he fucked her slowly in long drawn out thrusts. His arms were wrapped around her as he lay down the length of her back. Fili had praised her beauty, her courage, taking her body so hard Sigrid screamed herself hoarse. No man had ever pushed her so far sexually, they probably never understood her that way. Some women in this world need their mind engaged at that level, the restraint and the submission to bring out a most glorious release. Sigrid learned that day she was one of those women who preferred the naughty to nice.

There had only been one more instance before she left the island, the memory smoldering in the background of her mind. Fili had found her in a study, despite her attempt at avoiding him after the siesta incident. Quietly, he pulled her into a screened alcove in one of the drawing rooms to kiss her. It wasn’t harsh, ragged or in anyway frantic like she had expected when she followed him. Sigrid kept thinking he would thrust his tongue into her mouth, ravage it as he had in the hotel. But it was a delicate kiss, almost innocent, lips with the slightest lick of her lips. She wanted more, needed the rush of him until the pounding want in her legs got the better of her. She sank her teeth into his bottom lip in a stinging nip to push him as he had pushed her that afternoon. Fili had jerked away, his eyes narrowing at her.

Twisting her around quickly, he pushed her face into the wall, holding her there by putting pressure on her neck. Fili said nothing, yanking her hips back so that he could grind his full erection into her bottom. It wasn’t enough, now she was the desperate one, humping back against his cock in a vain attempt at stimulation. The coil of arousal began to tighten in her belly, heating her blood in a racing torrent. He let go of her hip, pulling up her skirt from the back.

Sigrid breathed a sigh of relief when she heard his zipper, felt his fumbling against her silk covered pussy. However, the anticipation was short lived. The bastard had tucked his cock against her thick lips, using her underwear to hold his flesh against hers. Shallowly, he thrust against her clit while slowly twisting her nipples. She had just started to beg when male voices entered the room, footmen, to inspect it before afternoon tea. He continued torment her, sliding his member in her swollen lips to just barely graze her thumping flesh at the apex. Never inside her, absolutely not in the hole that wanted him most. Sigrid wanted to scream at him when he came, flooding her panties with his release. Then he left her sliding down the wall with a hiss about punishment for biting.

Two weeks after Sigrid got home to Laketown in Dale, back to her reality, cards began to arrive. Silly cards, nonsense things all from Ered Luin. She knew it was Fili, trying to reach out to her. Sigrid ignored them though, tossing everything she received into a box in the back of a closet. She admired the effort, no one really sent cards in the mail now with the internet being much simpler but it was more than that. He didn’t know of her fear, what if it had been a fluke to feel so much at his hand? Sex was an opening to a woman’s soul, no matter the protest. Sigrid didn’t want to open herself up to be that vulnerable, break down her walls and just let go _…_ with nowhere to fall if it didn’t work out. He could destroy her heart very very easily.

In honesty, she didn’t know where to go with a dominant relationship. Where could they go with it? They had a fun weekend at Gandalf’s or he had at least. But there were responsibilities, duties that she had to perform for her new country as a royal representative. Part of her belonged to Dale but another part, much wilder than the accountable side burned for him so hot that nothing could douse the flames.  After months of cards and flowers, a package arrived and was sent to her unopened. She had long since put his address on the private list. When she opened it, she almost cried. It was the drapery cords from the hotel in Old Town lassoed into the handcuff knots and a note _asking_ her to come to the Notting Hill Carnival.

So she went to London, spending the days at the street fairs and the nights in Fili’s bed. Sigrid had learned her limits, what she could take and what really got her libido humming. Fili had a deft hand with a paddle and an endless imagination with rope. Kili had been there, screaming louder than her about the headboard pounding into his bedroom wall every night. The knowledge gain under him solidified her impression she had in Ibiza, this was the type of sex that worked her to an unimaginable degree. A sex slave, _a submissive_ but a loving one.

A few photos appeared online of the two of them at the carnival, captured moments of besotted looks exchanged when they assumed no one watched. Especially each other. Sigrid had tagged them all, liking them better than the half assed attempts she had tried. Handsome, with a mane of golden hair around a powerful masculine face and penetrating blue eyes. Coupled with the fact that he was a genuine prince from an old line, any woman with brains would slam on her breaks to get a good look at him if he walked the pavement.

 

At the end of Ladsbroke Street, Sigrid leaned into a sign post to tuck her hair up into a knitted cap to obscure her blond hair. Fili wanted to take her out tonight, but meant a change in clothes at his place. They had been quite the spectacle of late, the paparazzi was titillated. He had text that there was a van outside on the street and to come in the backway though the park. What could Fili expect when the two of them showed up at the Arda Club’s party room in Farringdon, Helm’s Deep, with Sigrid in a pink latex dress and fetish hood with cat ears? Let’s not forget the cute pink collar and lead. Losing a bet on orgasms had never felt so good with Fili’s lips around her clit but she had still balked a little at the outfit. Although by the end of the night, she was hotter than she had ever been in this life just from the stares they received.

Now pictures of the Lion Prince of Erebor prowling around London with his pink pussy cat were everywhere. He had insisted that pink be her signature color, the pretty princess in pink. Sigrid was always in pink of some type of creation, pleather, latex or silk with the hood in place. However, she couldn’t allow a scandal, it would be ruinous for Dale and her father, King Bard. The investors would shy away, running for a safe haven where the ruler didn’t have a child of such disgraceful notoriety. Her country was getting back on its feet after so many years of political turmoil, it would be criminal if she became the Prince Harry! So they were circumspect with her reputation, but that was beginning to wear thin.

There was something so freeing about being in that hood. No one knew her, the black hood with the pink lacings at the back and the pink ears impressed distance. It was a glass wall against the world that left her floating in a sea of constant yearning with the collar and leash her only tether to land. There was no touching unless Fili permitted it, it amazed her how many men wanted too. They hungered, coveting her submission while the women envied and hated her freedom. There were no worries, cares nor decisions. Sigrid was everything they wanted to be but too scared to take the step unless they were lying in their tweets.

There were two guys milling around the entrance to the small urban park that comprised the back lots of the row houses that fronted Holland Park Rd and the high street to the other side. The gate was open yet the two men, stood around trying and falling to seem like they belonged. If their clothes didn’t give them away in their non-descript skaterwear that didn’t make the cut in this part of town, the bulges in the pockets looked like cameras.

They gave her the avid once over then dismissed her sweats and wool as low income. Dismounting the bike, Sigrid nodded to them and walked the bike inside the grounds. She didn’t make a line for the Durin’s backdoor, but walked to the opposite bank of row houses. She stared that men for a few minutes, conscious that time was being to slip away and she needed to hurry. The men stopped talking to look at her. Seeing her on the wrong side of the row, their hands left their pockets and they continued chatting. Wankers, she thought, as she locked up her bike, quietly pulling the hidakey rock from under a bush.

The opposite row house contained the Durins escape tunnel, going under the park. It connected the basements of the two houses for emergencies. After their flight from Erebor, paranoia was required with the safety of the Royal family the number one priority. Thorin had stepped up this level when he became the King in Exile, buying several of the houses on both rows for loyal people to keep an eye out. Hurrying down to the basement, Sigrid pushed aside the cabinet door, grabbing a flashlight for her trek to her lover.

She didn’t look too close at the brick walls or down at the concrete floor. Seven feet tall by four feet wide, the enclosed space was tall enough with room to spare since the Durin’s were not the tallest family she had seen. The steady drum beat of her feet hit the occasional splash of puddled liquid. Sigrid didn’t try to think what might be swimming in water down here, or if it was water at all. Fili had confided the tunnel for easier access and at this moment, it was a blessing.

The door opened at the other end, a portal of white light with man stepping in the glaring brilliance. Sigrid charged forward, a broad grin splitting her lips at the sight of Fili leaning at the jam. She dived the last few steps into his arms in a flying leap that might have been a swan dive in a swimming pool. Fili caught her effortlessly, holding her close as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Sigrid tossed the bag and the hat she had used to disguise herself before she leaned into his smiling kiss. It was gentle, soft touching, never rushed no matter how excited she was. He made her wait, establishing control as he walked her to the recliner in the corner. It was his pace to set, his will to dominate her. And she submitted, not for him but herself and her need to please him.

Sigrid shivered as his hands wandered over her stomach to lift up the top over her head. He placed a kiss on the rise of her breast, licking at the cleavage the plain bra afforded. His voice was rapture, nirvana on heroin to pull her into a supernova of bliss. This was what she wanted in life, what was best, to submit to a man who understood all that she wanted and gave until there was nothing left.

 _Later_ ….

They didn’t come to dance, it was about seeing and being seen. Helm’s Deep was the club where everyone wanted to be, even standing outside in the long lines. Secretly, she knew Fili enjoyed the fervor they caused when they went out with her in pink. The attention undulated with the crowd that pitched and rolled to the music before parting for them. So many eyes, so many wondering thoughts. Sigrid kept her gaze on the back of Fili’s neck, a stride behind him. The black tailored suit cut well across his wide shoulders with a pink silk button down shirt and fuchsia silk pocket square. The leash lay on his right shoulder, slack with plenty of play if she needed it. Camera phones flashed, sparkling like the strobes overhead as the crowds tried to immortalize them for some blog post or _handling_ time later.

The body suit was an odd configuration. Pink leather covered her body, with slashes in the hided fabric to reveal pale skin underneath. The cuttings were strategic, opening and hiding her to the public. Most of the ass was stripped away, giving flashes of her whip struck bottom from Fili’s new quirt. Smacking her rounded flesh and legs with a vibrating plug digging into her ass had made for a wonderful greeting this afternoon. The buzz of their progress got louder when the marks were noticed, then commented upon, and of course, photographed. The women would call him a pig, a sadist but the rich perfume of their desire was hard to miss.  

Fili was being considerate tonight. Their progress was slow to give her time in the four inch clear heels with pink straps. Their height difference was negligible until she put on shoes. Fili wanted higher heels but Sigrid asked for no more than four. She never wanted to look like the pink giant in his wake. Black leather manacles with sliver chains hung from her wrists, slapping her legs. Sigrid wanted to look dignified, removed but sometimes the cold metal would brush her warm leg making her shake with the contrast.

The velvet ropes parted before they reached them, the wardens guarding the private balconies and upper deck lounge. Walking up the long stairs, Fili pulled the leash from his shoulder so that it dangled and didn’t pull. Sigrid’s attention flashed in brief glances around the club as they walked. A converted church with a flair for the dark ages, the main floor seethed with life moving to beat at the DJ’s command. Metal shields with forgotten heraldry lined the walls, each a story of brave knights and dead heroes. Techno music pumped in hard blasts under the heavy metal chandeliers overhead. It was a surrealist view of posh urban invaders in a medieval monastery.

The Lounge opened in sweeping arcs of leather chaises and ottomans. Lord Erkenbrand of Westfold had spared no expense to attract and keep happy the members of the Arda club. Private balconies and toilets allowed for sex away from onlookers as well as two fully loaded bars with wait staff in black shorts and black tank tops. Boromir of Gondor was on restriction, the upper guard told Fili, he had gotten tossed last weekend for getting his picture taken while he fucked a waiter in the downstairs bathroom. _The Beast,_ an online rag for royal gossip had it as a headliner all week. Sigrid knew the website, she and Fili had quite a following on it.

Lord Erkenbrand pushed away from the bar after the attendant pointed them out. He was a big man, tall and wide with a long powerful stride. Sigrid had only met him a few times, knowing she had never left him with a favorable impression. Now, it was different time and setting. She wasn’t a princess, she was an object. The possessive flame in his expression seared her exposed skin, a heated flexing of lust and carnal thirst. If Sigrid had thought it to be a seasonal attraction, she had been naïve. The Lord remembered her as a sub and he craved.

The last time Fili brought her here, the Lord of Westfold had asked to fuck her to which Fili had laughingly refused. Then the Lord had tried to negotiate for her tits or at the very minimal her hands. Tired of the badgering, her lover had unzipped the front of the strapless dress to expose her chest to view. Since they were in a balcony, no one saw Fili lick her stiff nipples. No complaints were issued when the Crown Prince of Erebor took out his very impressive cock for her to suck him until he came in her mouth. Erkenbrand had seen it all, watched her perform fellatio on her lover and walked away in a huff. Fili had told her later that night in bed, there wasn’t a god in any world known to man that could make him share her with another.

“Fili!” He crowed as Erkenbrand took the blonde’s hand. Sigrid had hoped that he was out tonight and not here. “Good to see you return to Helm’s deep. How long you in town?”

“Just a few days. Business. Mind giving us a balcony?” Fili looked over his shoulder to the barnacles of alcoves that stretched around the wall over the DJ’s platform.

Westfold snorted and shifted but still Sigrid kept her head down, no eye contact. She didn’t want him to see her eyes and remember later. No matter how heavy the makeup, or contacts if she chose to wear them, someone would recall her tilted features and put two together with two.

“Of course.” The owner grunted when he realized he wasn’t getting any reaction from her, not even a glance.

He led them to a first level balcony, close to the privacies and bar. Fili took a seat, tossing a pillow between his spread legs for her to be comfortable. It wasn’t as easy as it looked, kneeling down with grace in four inch heels but not touching Fili for balance. It would be disastrous if Sigrid needed a hand, that she was incapable of the elegance required to be a pet of the Crown Prince. She could feel Erkenbrand still watching with envious longing as she arranged her body for comfort then to lay her face on the inside of Fili’s thigh. The smell of his crotch, the pheromones that waivered like tendrils of heat on a summer’s day, made her close her eyes and moan lightly. It would be so easy for Fili to unzip and pull out his member for her to lick. Sigrid inched closer, her lips not an inch from the metal teeth.

Fili put a hand on her head, the fingers rubbing her neck as the thumb flicked at her cat’s ear. He grumbled at her. “Stay and behave.”

Sigrid sighed at that, his hand on her neck as his thumb still caressed her hood. It was a dull rubbing, no real sensation other than the weight. “Good Girl.” He whispered as her body went a little more relaxed against his warm leg from the praise.

“You should sell her to me.” The words made her tense, the screaming adrenaline clawing at her to move to get away from the words and the man who uttered them. Westfold continued. “No woman of blood is going to marry you while you parade your pussy around on a leash. I’ll make you a fair offer.”

“Shhhh, pet.” Fili had felt her seize into lockdown, though she didn’t move from her position. He snarled at the man. “I came for a good time tonight, don’t fuck up my evening. I’ve said no in every email you have sent, so get a clue.”

Sigrid squeezed her eyes to block it all out, pressing her lips to stop the whimpering weakness. She wasn’t chattel to be sold! She had given herself freely to Fili, giving him the right to do with her as he pleased. It had been difficult in the beginning, but it passed with his encouragement. Digging her nails into her hand to keep from lashing out was harder than she had ever thought it could be. Men and women had hit on Fili in front of her, asked to touch _her_ in intimate ways. Sigrid would have allowed if it made him happy, would have given herself to Erkenbrand that night if that was what Fili wanted. But it was a _choice_ she had made, for him. As long as she snuggled into her golden lion at the end of the night to lay in his arms, nothing else mattered. There was love in her heart, a blooming rose of happiness that needed him to thrive.

“Think about what I said. I hate to see what would happen to your pussy when you have to discard her.” He chuckled a little, making Sigrid reach out for Fili’s ankle to have more contact with his body. “I hear Thorin has been making noises too about your London free time.”

“I met the Princess of Dale last summer at Gandalf’s. Obliging girl, yeah? I think she might be ok with it, might like a pet of her own one day.” Fili looked at the club owner with disgust before placing a drink order on the tablet mounted on the table. “The fact is… my pussy isn’t for sale. So fuck off, Erkenbrand.”

She heard Westfold stomp off in a rage. There was a scream and a collision, yet neither stirred her. The pain in her heart was gripping, suffocating her slowly. It hurt, it hurt so badly as the reality of life sucked her into the quicksand of agony. Sigrid had heard what he said in such a flippant manner about her alter ego, but the thought of losing him was a living misery. Everything she had come to know and believe was breaking into little white eggshells of despair.

Fili would have to marry one day, Erkenbrand was right, then would walk out of her life. One thing she had found in her reading of the culture was most Doms didn’t marry their subs. Even the most perfect relationship ended, usually in pain. She would be trapped, worse than she ever had been before. Sigrid had seen the other side of life, and would never get to experience the wonder of it again. She would never give herself to another in this fashion, her submission had been to Fili and only him.

“Bollocks. This isn’t how I wanted to do this.” Fili’s hand on her neck gripped her for a reaction, not just her quiet bleeding soul. She turned her face to him, placing her chin on his groin to see those blue eyes that haunted her dreams. “I can’t decide whether to give you an engagement ring or an engagement collar. Which do you think, my pink Princess of Dale? It isn’t possible for me to lose you, so please please, marry me.”

Her breath caught as Fili grinned, his expression so full of love for her. Her lips trembled with tears in her eyes. “Of course, I will marry you!” Still gripping his ankle, hating to let go, Sigrid preened and rubbed against his crotch. “But to answer your question, get both! Your pink pussy likes to be pampered!”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah,..I need to apologize to any Londoners if I got your town too screwed off.. Google Earth is a wonderful for people who love to travel but have a messed up sense of direction. Like all my work, this is non beta'd ..
> 
> Farringdon district is where the club Fabric is, I thought that it was a good place for Helm's deep..


End file.
